


I'd Marry You Rain or Shine, Tequila or No Tequila

by vivilove



Series: Beach House [5]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cousins, Drunkenness, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Playful Sex, Wedding, Wedding Planning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-30
Updated: 2017-09-04
Packaged: 2018-12-21 14:29:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11946213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vivilove/pseuds/vivilove
Summary: Five years after first cousins Sansa Stark and Jon Snow began a secret affair at her parents' beach house, they are happily in love with the support of their family and planning on getting married at that same beach house over Labor Day Weekend.Wedding planning has been frustrating at times but Jon and Sansa have a pretty good remedy for that.  They're both looking forward to their upcoming nuptials though the weather in the Gulf of Mexico is not looking promising for their big day.  But it would not dare rain on Sansa Stark's wedding day, would it?





	1. Chapter 1

“Would you please stop bitching about the goddamn flowers?” Jon snarled.

“No! I’ll bitch all I want. I knew you weren’t listening to me the other night,” she hissed right back.

“I was listening! Yellow! That’s all you said. For fuck sake, I can’t believe this is a thing! Christ, Sansa…it’s not like I meant to get the wrong…”

“‘ _I didn’t mean to! I didn’t know! I know nothing about x, y or z!’_ That’s always your lame ass excuse for everything!” she hurled right back.

The door to their apartment crashed open as Sansa forcefully pushed past him to get inside.

“ARGH!!!” he roared in frustration.

“Argh right back at you,” she said icily.

“God…I don’t want to fight about this. Come on, baby,” he said sweetly.

He ran a hand through his curls and he gave her those sad puppy eyes of his…and that. was. it. Sansa knew this spat would just lead to another lovely session of making up.

In an instant, their hands were busy touching each other’s faces and sliding across shoulders, down arms and elsewhere. Mouths were hungrily devouring lips and tongues while they swallowed one another’s moans.

Ghost and Lady had both barked in surprise at their loud entrance and now stood in the living room watching their feverish make out session in the hall.

“Hey, babies,” Sansa said breathily to the pair while Jon cupped her tits and ground his erection against her thigh, his hot breath tickling her ear. “Shit…wait,” she cried as Jon tried to lift her skirt, fully intent on getting his hand down her panties. She was aching for him to put his hands on her but she didn’t want to give him that power, she didn’t want him to know how wet he was making her…not yet. “You’re not getting what you want yet,” she scolded as she batted his busy hands away.

The neighbors would get quite a show if they didn’t close the door soon. They were likely to _hear_ enough of it as it was.

She kicked the door closed behind her and threw the deadbolt before she pushed him backwards, yanking off his tie as he worked to unbutton her blouse now.

The back of Jon’s head met the wall with a loud whack. He whimpered but kept kissing her. Her hand came up to soothe the place, softly caressing to take the sting out.

Sansa stepped out of her heels, bringing her down to his height. He started trailing kisses down her throat. Her chest heaved in anticipation as he got closer to her breasts. She wanted this. God, she wanted his mouth on her tits and his hand down her panties. She wanted him to make her come right here in the hall and shout his name.

_Nope, not yet._

She roughly grabbed him by his curls drawing a delicious little whine from him as she brought him back up to eye level.

“You don’t get what you want yet. You are already in so much trouble, mister,” she said in a raw but teasing voice. “And as soon as I’m done fucking you, you’re getting the silent treatment for a week at least.”

“The wedding is in five days, sweet girl. Am I supposed to believe you’re not going to talk to me for a week?” he smirked.

“I don’t have to actually speak to you to marry you. I’ll just repeat what the minister says during the ceremony,” she said haughtily. Sansa ran her hands across his back, her nails grazing him painfully through his dress shirt. He winced but she knew it drove him wild, too. It was all part of their little make-up game after all. “It’s what you get, Mr. Snow, for trying to kill your bride.”

“Sansa,” he growled, “I swear I didn’t know you were allergic to daisies! I didn’t even know what the fuck chrysanthemums were. I’ve only ever bought you roses. I don’t know shit about flowers. I told you that.”

“And yet you chose two flowers that are deadly to me.”

“They were the right shade of yellow. You said to pick yellow for the boutonnieres and I did,” he said, wagging his finger at her.

“Hmmm…I did,” she said as she nipped at that finger.

He tried to start kissing her again but she pulled away with a grin. She walked over to their dining table and shimmied out of her panties. She turned to face him and lifted her skirt before she sat on the edge of the table. She spread her legs and then spread her folds with two fingers, drawing another pitiable moan from Jon, his eyes glued to her glistening pussy. She crooked a finger on her other hand and beckoned him over.

“Better get over here and make me forget that you tried to murder your fiancée then.”

He nearly sprinted to her and sank to his knees as though he meant to worship at the altar of her cunt for days on end.

She laughed but it wasn’t long before he made her scream, causing the dogs to erupt in a chorus of howling and the neighbors to wonder once more exactly when the hell Jon Snow and Sansa Stark would be moving out.

 

* * *

 

 

Jon woke on the couch with her still nestled atop him. It was almost 7:45 and they’d fallen asleep naked under the blanket after screwing each other’s brains out when they got home.

Three weeks it’d been like this. They’d fight over some stupid detail of the wedding and then fuck like bunnies on Viagra when they got home. They were both feeling a lot of tension over all of it but wild, hot sex seemed to be the perfect release and remedy.

 _Thank God, it’s a small wedding. I’d have to start running marathons to keep up with these sessions if it were any more complicated_.

Over five years ago, Jon Snow had fallen completely and irrevocably in love with his first cousin, Sansa Stark. Actually, it’d been building longer than that but he’d never thought his secret crush would amount to more than just that.

But a post-finals trip to the Stark’s beach house had sealed his fate when Sansa came to the attic room where he stayed one rainy night. She crawled into his bed under the cover of darkness and from that night on they’d carried on a covert affair for a couple of months until they finally got busted. Unfortunately, it was her father, his Uncle Ned, that accidently busted them aboard his friend’s luxury yacht.

Once they were out in the open with the family though, their relationship had flourished. Those two months of sneaking around had been a delightful time, a dirty thrill in a way, but it couldn’t compare to five years of building something solid and lasting that their family thankfully supported.

And in five days, they were getting married. It would be Labor Day weekend and the Stark clan and a few close friends would be driving down to the beach house on the Gulf Coast of Florida to watch Sansa Stark become Mrs. Jon Snow.

He shifted slightly under her weight on the couch before kissing her shoulder softly. He wondered if her ass was as sore as his knees. He’d eaten her out while she lounged back on their dining table. Kneeling on the hardwood floor wasn’t the most comfortable but he’d gladly spend his penitence for the flower debacle on his knees for hours if it meant watching Sansa melt under his touch and tongue again and again.

After that, he’d bent her over the back of their couch to fuck her from behind. He caressed her lovely ass tenderly now after spanking it while she moaned and writhed and jutted her ass back against his cock, begging him for more.

_“Harder, Jon. Spank your horny girl harder. Fuck me hard and fast, lover.”_

Jon’s cock twitched with interest at the memory alone.

“Hey,” she said sweetly into his neck before her head popped up and he looked into those blue eyes he adored, the eyes of this woman he loved more than life itself.

“Hey,” he replied. “I’m starved. You hungry?”

“Yeah. I’ll go see what we’ve got.”

She rolled off him and walked naked into the kitchen, opening the fridge to root around for some leftovers. Jon watched her nipples pebble from the cold air and thought maybe he could stand to forgo dinner if he could just take her on to the bedroom.

Just as he started to suggest that very thing, his phone rang.

“It’s Robb,” he said before answering. “Hey, Best Man.”

“Hey, Dead Man Walking. How’s it going?”

“It’s good,” he replied watching Sansa set last night’s take out boxes on the counter. She was still naked. She really should know what that did to him by now.

“Sansa freaking out?” Robb asked next.

“Huh? Well, she was upset about the flowers I…wait, you wouldn’t know about that. Why are you asking?”

“Didn’t you guys watch the news tonight? It’s all they were talking about.”

“Um…we missed it.” _I was having too much fun fucking your sister. I’m afraid Lester Holt just can’t compare_.

“Oh…well, there’s a big tropical storm brewing in the Gulf and it looks like it could be heading towards our little part of Florida.”

“Shit! That doesn’t sound good.”

“What doesn’t sound good?” Sansa asked.

 _Oh, fuck…I shouldn’t have said that out loud_.

“Uh…okay. I’ll check it out. Thanks!” he said quickly as he hung up on Robb. He turned to face his bride-to-be and raked his hand through his hair. “So…how stuck are you on that beach wedding idea?”

 

* * *

 

 

Four days later, Jon and Sansa passed a long line of traffic going the opposite direction as they made their way down the state road towards the sleepy little hamlet where the beach house was located. The tropical storm had thankfully blown itself out in the Gulf and been downgraded to a tropical depression. Still, there was a lot of rain in the forecast for the next several days.

“It’s just people leaving the beach early is all. This rain will move out soon enough,” Sansa said.

“Uh huh…because lots of people like to leave the beach early when Labor Day weekend is approaching.”

“It’s just rain…and little wind. And there’s a very decent chance it’ll clear off anytime now.”

“Right,” Jon said as he adjusted the wipers to a faster setting.

He’d learned by now not to say anything else. Sansa was damned and determined to have her beach wedding and convinced that Mother Nature would not deny her.

They arrived at the beach house an hour later and found Aunt Cat and Uncle Ned were already there along with Rickon. Gendry, Arya and Uncle Benjen arrived right on their tail. They rushed in out of the rain and Jon wrung out his jacket in the doorway.

They all hugged their way around the room and everyone settled in front of the TV to see the local news. There had been some localized flooding but luckily nothing serious. But rain was in the forecast for the next four days. _100% chance of rain_.

Aunt Cat asked Sansa what the back-up plan was. She had suggested they reserve the community center a few months ago when Sansa had shared the wedding details over dinner with her folks one night. “Just in case,” Aunt Cat had said back then.

“Back-up plan? There’s no back-up plan. We’re getting married tomorrow at sunset on the beach,” Sansa said with a serene smile.

Everyone’s head whipped towards the bride-to-be; varying degrees of surprise and amusement plastered on their faces.

“Sansa…it’s going to be raining,” her mother said, gesturing towards the television where the radar map was currently showing a map of Florida and a good hunk of the Gulf…all colored in green.

“I like that shade of green,” Sansa said dryly. “But, the ceremony won’t last fifteen minutes, Mom. It will hold off that long,” his bride said confidently.

And Jon loved her for it. Whatever doubts or worries plagued him, Sansa was always ready to tell him why he needn’t worry. It was funny considering he’d been the one so eager to come clean about their relationship years ago when they were sneaking around and Sansa had been afraid.

After that had all worked out, it was like she’d become a little spark of positivity. The glass was always half full. There was always a way. Their tensions over the wedding only led to passionate make-up sex. Sansa was always on the lookout for the silver lining.

Sansa was convinced that tomorrow evening at 8PM when the sun began to set in the Gulf of Mexico, the rain would stop for at least fifteen minutes for them to exchange their vows on the beach as she had been planning for the past few months.

Aunt Cat got up to call the community center, only to come back disgruntled ten minutes later to report it was booked with a bridge tournament. Arya and Gendry both started to argue but Uncle Ned shook his head at them. He knew his daughter well. There was no point in telling Sansa something was impossible…not when it came to something like this.

Sansa smiled at them all and snugged up against Jon on the loveseat. “So, what are we making for dinner tonight?” she asked her mother.

 

* * *

 

 

The rest of the family arrived within the hour. Bran drove down from school with his friends Jojen and Meera Reed. Robb and Margaery had gotten married over Christmas last year and they brought Theon down with them. Gendry’s father, Robert, would be flying down in the morning. Jon’s mother, Sansa's aunt, had died years ago and he had no contact with his father’s family since he’d turned 18 so that would be the extent of their wedding guests.

She’d been helping her mother with dinner but then been shooed off by Margaery and told to relax for a bit. Sansa spent the time settling into the attic room that she and Jon had claimed as the honeymoon suite.

She pulled her wedding gown out of the bag and began steaming out the wrinkles it had collected on the drive down. The soft linear, strapless gown with lace sheath covering the satin was exactly what she’d pictured when Jon had first mentioned that he’d like to marry her at the beach house.

She smiled at the memory. He’d proposed on New Year’s Eve. Or was it already New Year’s Day?

Perhaps he’d only said it on a whim at that moment. They’d both been quite tipsy on tequila that night. In fact, he was still panting and buried balls deep inside her after a vigorous round of sexual gymnastics. It was then that he’d gasped out the most romantic thing that Drunk Sansa had ever heard from Drunk Jon’s lips.

“Sansa Stark…I fucking love you so much. You’re clever, sweet, smart and funny. You’re beautiful and brave and my best friend.”

She cooed at his sweet words pouring out like honey from his husky voice and started tonguing his ear. He moaned and then, naturally, Drunk Jon had to continue.

“And will you allow me say that your tits are a perfect ten and your pussy is hand-crafted perfection straight from Heaven and I’d really like to stay right here with my cock in it for-fucking-ever? Angels must weep when you come, love. You’re so gorgeous when you do.”

She’d snickered at his naughty sweetness as he’d gently brushed her hair out of her eyes. Then, he kept going.

“Nah, nah…fuck, this is coming out all wrong. What I mean is, I love you heart and soul and I want to get married. Will you marry me, baby? Will you marry me and make me the happiest fool on Earth.”

“Really, Jon?” she’d replied, all heart eyes and sighs as her belly clenched with excitement. Actually, she clenched more muscles than just her belly and Jon groaned and bucked his hips into her again.

“Oh shit. Keep doing that and I’ll be hard again in no time,” he gasped. She’d laughed but then his eyes turned soft but serious. “I mean it. I want to marry you. I want to marry you at the beach house where we first fell in love. I want our family there to watch us exchange vows on the beach. And then I want to take you out into the water and consummate our marriage just like we did that night long ago when we took our walk and I swore to do anything to be with you always. Just think…we’ll give all the dolphins and sea creatures a show. We’ll just pray the sharks are busy. What do you say, sweet girl? Will you marry me?”

“Yes, Jon…I’ll marry you,” she’d sighed happily.

They’d kissed and kissed until Jon grew hard again and then they’d fucked some more.

The next morning they’d woke up sore and hung over but neither forgot what he’d asked her.

“Did you mean it? Or was that just the tequila talking last night?” she’d asked nervously from where she sat on the edge of the bed.

“Yes and no,” he’d answered sheepishly. Sansa had thought she’d die right then until he continued, “Wait! I meant every word but that wasn’t how I’d planned to do it.”

Jon walked over to his dresser and opened his sock drawer. He pulled out a velvet ring box and Sansa’s heart stopped for a moment and then thundered to life again when he walked over to where she sat knelt before her. He opened the ring box with a lovely twinkling diamond shining inside and said the most romantic thing Hung Over Jon had ever said.

“Sansa Stark, I love you with all my heart. I wanted to do this properly last night but we both know I’m an idiot when I drink too much tequila. That being said, will you do me the great honor of marrying me and becoming my wife?”

Sansa nodded and started to cry. She let him slip on the ring and she shouted out ‘yes.’ Then, she had the ugliest sob-fest that Hung Over Sansa had ever experienced. She was just that damned happy.

It was then that Sansa became determined that they would get married on the beach just like he’d said.

The consummation in the water though? Well, that might require more tequila.

Sansa finished steaming the dress and slipped it on just to take a look at herself in the full-length mirror.  She turned this way and that, smiling at her reflection and feeling like a princess. 

_Perfect. I can’t wait for him to see me in it._

“Hey,” Jon said from the doorway.

“Don’t look at me! Close your eyes!” she screamed. “I told you not to come in!”

He was just barely through the door. Perhaps he’d not seen her yet. He slapped a hand over his eyes.

“I didn’t see! Shit…your mom asked me to come get you for dinner. I know you said not to come in. I didn’t see it, Sansa.”

“Are you certain?”

“Yes,” he said, keeping his eyes shut and hands over them.

“Swear it!”

“Sansa…”

“Swear it!”

“Alright, alright, I swear I didn’t see the dress.”

"No peeking?"

"No peeking," he said, nodding with his face still covered.

“Good. _Whew!_ Talk about jinxing things. If one thing could possibly bring us bad luck and tons of rain tomorrow evening, it’d be you see me in my dress before the wedding,” she said laughing with relief.

She knew Jon had his doubts about the weather but he’d been staying positive for her. He chuckled uncertainly and kept his hands over his face. She pulled off the dress and put it away. She slipped off her panties and told him he could uncover his eyes at last.

“Um…everyone’s getting ready to sit down for dinner,” he said, all while his eyes were roaming her body. He licked his lips subconsciously.

“Well…we’ll just have to be quick then,” she said with a smile.

“Yes. Quick. I can be quick. Yes, yes, yes…quick, quick, quick,” he said as he scooped her up and plopped her down on the bed.

Sansa’s laughter rang throughout the attic room until he slid inside her and she moaned with perfect contentment.

“I love you, Jon Snow. I’m so glad we’re getting married tomorrow.”

“Me, too, sweet girl. Me, too.”

 

* * *

 

 

Sansa held his arm as they walked down the stairs ten minutes later. She was still a bit weak in the knees. Their hair was a mess and Jon couldn’t wipe the shit-eating grin off his face fast enough.

“Oh, for fuck sake,” Robb grumbled when they walked into the living room where everyone stood staring at them.

Uncle Ned cleared his throat and shot Arya a look as she started guffawing.  He said grace after that and invited everyone to dive in after a long, awkward pause.

“The hamburgers were getting cold while we waited for you to 'fetch' Sansa, fucking horn dog. You could’ve waited till after dinner,” Robb growled.

“No, we couldn’t,” he whispered back while smirking at his Best Man, Cousin, Best Friend and soon-to-be Brother-in-Law.

But then he nervously scratched the back of his neck. The guilt was driving him mad.

He looked around and whispered, “Robb…I'm afraid I might have just jinxed the whole wedding.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Confessions, smut and a wet wedding day.

“Come on, Snow. You didn’t want to go to the titty bar on your last night of freedom. So, answer the question, Groomy Brood. I mean, Broody Groom,” Theon said in that smart-ass tone of his.

_Why did we invite you to the wedding again?_ Jon thought irritably. _And why the fuck are we playing this ridiculous game…here again of all places? And will I ever for the love of God learn to ask for a Dare instead of picking Truth?_

“Um…” Jon stalled as he scrubbed his face with his hands.

To keep stalling, he gestured for Gendry to pour him another shot. _Jose Cuervo, you are no friend of mine_ , he thought as he downed it. _This might be a bad idea. Drunk Jon talks_ _too much. Buzzed Jon is nearly as bad._

His eyes darted over to his beautiful bride-to-be that was sitting cross-legged in the floor chatting with Marg about how sand gets everywhere.

“Last trip, Jon asked if I’d been using that sugar facial scrub you made me for my birthday on my ass…and other areas,” she laughed.

Margaery laughed along with her. Robb scowled at him menacingly.

He averted his eyes from them all and looked outside. The rain rapped against the window pane and thunder rumbled in the distance. He could see the palm tree outside the window frantically wiping this way and that in the wind whenever there was a flash of lightning to illuminate it.

_“And the rain, rain, rain_

_Came down, down, down_

_In rushing, rising, riv’lets_

_Till the river crept out of its bed_

_And crept right into Piglet’s”_

Everyone’s eyes were wide as saucers and their mouths were hanging open when Jon realized he’d been singing under his breath. Sansa started giggling. Her 1st graders had sung the tune from ‘Winnie the Pooh and the Blustery Day’ at their spring concert. _Oh, bother…and we’re not even anywhere near drunk yet_.

Gendry sniffed the tequila suspiciously but then poured himself and Arya another shot.

Jon cleared his throat and rubbed his sweaty palms across his thighs.

They’d lost power an hour ago. The older folks were downstairs talking in the darkened living room with several candles burning. Bran, Rickon and the Reeds were desperately playing their personal gaming devices for as long as possible until the batteries ran out…as though their lives depended on it.

But the young adults at the beach house had retreated to Robb and Margaery’s room and Theon had suggested they play Truth or Dare by flashlight.

“Have you ever told Sansa a lie?” Theon asked again, enunciating each word while shining the light in Jon’s eyes.

_All part of his unique charm_.

“Of course, he has,” Arya scoffed dismissively at last. “He’s bound to have lied to her at some point. He’s known her all his life. And who cares anyway? Are you trying to stir up shit less than 24 hours before the wedding, asshole?” Arya asked as she downed the shot Gendry handed her from where she sat in his lap.

_Hello, Arya. This is Theon. Perhaps you’ve not met_.

Jon knew Theon didn’t really want to cause problems between him and Sansa. He just liked making Jon uncomfortable. Sometimes he managed it without even being aware of it.

And just like the last time they’d played Truth or Dare on that fateful trip when Jon and Sansa had first started sleeping together, Theon asked a question that Jon wasn’t quite prepared to answer.

He caught Robb’s eye on him. He was subtly (well, not so subtly) making faces and jerking his chin towards Sansa and indicating that Jon needed to hurry up and say something.

_Yeah, yeah…just answer_.

“Yes, I have,” he said at last with an exhaled breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding.

Theon barked out a laugh and Arya’s head snapped towards him now with narrowed eyes. Sansa looked over at him but didn’t seem truly concerned.

“When?” Theon prompted as he grinned like he’d just hit the lottery.

_When I saw her in her wedding dress this afternoon and then denied it. I’m warning you, Buzzed Jon…stay cool, man. Don’t crack._

He hadn’t meant to look. He’d forgotten about Sansa’s warning to stay out of the attic room until she gave him the all clear. But he’d slid through the door quietly and when he saw her standing there, admiring herself in her gown in the mirror with the most beatific and joyous expression on her face, he entered a trance.

It was like watching a train wreck. No…scratch that. It was like looking at the most beautiful thing in the world (which she was) and being told you can’t look (which you shouldn’t but you couldn’t help it) and then being frozen in place just staring at her, this glorious angel that had agreed to marry your dumb ass which couldn’t even remember to stay out of the room or at least knock when Aunt Cat told you to go fetch her for dinner.

And then, she’d shrieked at him.

He’d quickly covered his eyes and started denying. _Deny everything!_

His conscience immediately started troubling him though and he wanted to confess. Honest Jon was a big part of who he was…but Sneaky Jon had his moments.

And, when she’d talked about the rain and how if he’d seen her it would’ve jinxed the whole thing, he felt a pang at the thought of making her unhappy…no matter how silly he thought the whole superstition was.

Of course, the matter had quickly become moot when he was finally allowed to uncover his eyes and discovered Naked Sansa standing there. Nothing beat Naked Sansa when they were alone, especially when a comfy bed was just a few feet away.

And at that point, Jon knew he wouldn’t say a goddamn thing about seeing her in the dress and then lying about seeing her in the dress because Horny Jon was in play now with Naked Sansa right there. Honestly…Honest Jon didn’t stand a chance against Horny Jon.

Jon was smirking to himself at the memory and he caught Sansa’s confused smile. _She wants to know when you lied to her_. He realized everyone else was staring at him, too. _They all want to hear your answer, dipshit_.

“Well…um, earlier…when I was…” He had eyes for her alone. He had lied to her. He would confess to her. He cleared his throat and tried to start again…then he chickened out. “When I was…uh, when I turned fourteen, Sansa baked me a cake for my birthday. It was Chocolate Cherry…my favorite. But it was awful.” Sansa snickered and started shaking her head. “Aunt Cat told me later that Sansa had mistakenly used a jar of Maraschino cherries that still had stems on them from the pantry instead of the can of cherry pie filling she’d sat out on the counter for her.”

“And I only used half the sugar the recipe called for…and added twice the number of chocolate chips required,” she said covering her eyes as she giggled. “I thought more chocolate would make it better.”

“Unfortunately, she used the really bitter, dark chocolate chips mom had for another recipe instead of the semi-sweet,” Robb added. “That thing was so bitter. And, I kept pulling cherry stems out of my piece.”

“Ugh…don’t remind me,” Arya chimed in. “It was gross. Jon and Dad kept saying how good it was and making ridiculous noises over it.”

The four of them laughed at the memory and Jon finally said, “Sansa started to cry when Rickon choked on a cherry stem and Arya couldn’t hold back anymore and announced to us all that is was horrible and congratulated Sansa on ruining my birthday.”

“Harsh, babe!” Gendry chided Arya.

“I might’ve been a bit bitchy at times with Sansa,” she admitted sheepishly. “But, she was just as bad. Worse, at times!” Arya said next.

The two sisters grinned at each other though. They’d long since learned to appreciate their differences while treasuring what they shared.

Jon reached over and took Sansa’s hand. “I lied to you and said it was the best cake I’d ever eaten because I didn’t want to see you cry.”

“ _Awww!”_ Sansa and Margaery both exclaimed together while Robb and Arya made gagging sounds.

“Only you could admit to a lie and probably wind up getting your cock sucked for it later. I fucking hate you,” Theon muttered darkly from his corner before aiming the light at his next victim.

_Ummm…I wouldn’t count on that_.

 

* * *

 

 

“Oh, fuck…Sansa,” Jon moaned as she hollowed out her cheeks and sucked the head of his cock harder. She hummed in response to his moan knowing it would only make him more desperate. “Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck…I’m so fucking fucked,” he babbled with his head thrown back and his hands gripping the sheets.

The red curtain of her hair was covering his belly and thighs as she started bobbing up and down again but she’d grinned when she felt a hand brush a large swath of it back out of the way. She looked up and saw his head titled forwards, his eyes were watching her intently. He loved watching her suck his cock. She batted her eyes at him and hummed again.

“ _Unnn_ …fuck. Sansa…baby, wait. Can you stop a sec?”

He wanted to come inside her pussy instead of her mouth. He’d already told her that when she’d started going down on him.

_Why not both?_ she thought mischievously as she redoubled her efforts, stroking the lower half of his straining erection with her hand fisted around it as she took him in as far as she could. She felt him hit the back of her throat and focused on his pleasure. She moaned again. “ _Mmmm_ …”

“No,” he said desperately. _He sounds upset_. “Please, stop. Please…” he said as he leaned forward and started trying to gently pull her away.

Sansa’s hand stopped moving and her mouth popped off him at once. “What’s wrong, baby?” she asked.

His gorgeous, dark eyes were round and glassy. His chest was heaving and he looked dangerously close to sobbing. Not something she saw very often.

The last time he’d cried in front of her had been nearly two years ago when they’d had a huge argument and he’d taken off from the apartment near midnight. Her heart ached at the memory of it. The fight had been stupid, as most fights are. But they’d both been so angry.

At the height of the argument, he’d shouted at her, louder than she’d ever heard him, and then he’d kicked over a bar stool at the kitchen counter in his frustration. Sansa had been shouting too but when he did that she’d visibly flinched and cowered, shocked by his display. Then, she’d started crying. He’d took a step back in horror, his eyes wide and obviously confused by his own actions. He looked devastated, as though he’d laid a hand on her. He hadn’t. He would never but his behavior and her momentary fear had frightened him too and he’d bolted from the apartment.

Sansa had called his phone repeatedly until she realized it was in the bedroom. Then, she had realized he’d left his keys and wallet, too. She’d taken Lady and Ghost with her and started searching for him.

She found him two blocks from their building at the dog park where they took the dogs every morning before work. He was sitting there alone on their bench and crying. When he’d realized she was there, he apologized for scaring her…and then cried harder.

It was a miserable moment but in the end, they’d went home together hand in hand and snuggled together in their whispering apologies about things they’d said during the fight until they both fell asleep wrapped up in each other’s arms.

“Sansa…I fucked up,” he said now, looking absolutely miserable.

He sat up in bed so she shifted to sit next to him and put her arm around his shoulders waiting for him to speak, a little fearful of what he was getting ready to confess. More than a little fearful. They were getting married tomorrow evening. What if he had cold feet now? Would he bolt like he had after that fight? What if he’d done something else? What if he’d…

“I saw you,” he whispered. Her brow wrinkled in confusion. “I saw you in your dress this afternoon,” he clarified before ducking his chin and reminding her of the way he’d look as a kid when her mom or dad would scold him for something. “I lied to you…even after you asked me to swear. I lied.”

Relief flooded her. She hadn’t really expected that Jon had done something horrible but she’d expected worse than this. She snorted and had to suppress a giggle when he looked up in anguish at her. _Oh, my God…he’s seriously upset over this_.

As if to confirm it, a single tear rolled down his cheek. She wiped it tenderly away. She smiled and licked the teardrop off her thumb. He stared at her, his chest still heaving with the sobs that threatened. He was clearly at a loss.

“ _Mmmm_ …salty. Just like something else I could’ve been tasting by now,” she said teasingly.

“What?” he gasped. His brow furrowed and he started rambling. “Wait…aren’t you mad? You said if one thing could jinx the…”

“Jon, do you really believe that seeing me in the dress will jinx our wedding?”

“No…but I thought you did. You’ve been so confident the rain will stop.”

“Well, it will,” she said. “I mean…I believe that it will. Seeing me in my dress won’t change that one way or the other.”

“I’m sorry, Sansa. I shouldn’t have lied. I forgot you told me to stay out and then I lied so you wouldn’t be pissed and I…”

“I’ll punish you later,” she promised.

He gave a hopeful grin at that but he was still worried. “But what if it does rain? Are you going to be sad?”

“Why would I be sad? I’m marrying you. Do you think I won’t marry you in the rain, my love?” she asked as she caressed his cheek softly now.

“I…”

“I’d marry you rain or shine, Jon Snow. I’d marry you in the middle of a hurricane if I had to. I’d marry you drunk off my ass or stone cold sober.”

“Tequila or no tequila?” he laughed. She nodded and he heaved a sigh of relief. “God, I’d marry you, too.”

“ _Mmmm_ …I prefer rum actually.”

“I’ll buy out the liquor store tomorrow morning if my bride wants rum,” he said before laying open-mouthed kisses along her jaw and throat.

“Just a bottle will do,” she said, squirming a bit since he was tickling her with his beard. “I don’t want to vomit during my wedding.”

“So, you’re not worried…about tomorrow because of me seeing the dress, right?”

“Not at all. You worry too much, Jon Snow. Nothing is going to jinx our wedding. Besides, Robb sat through Margaery’s last two fittings of her dress. Nothing bad happened to them, right?”

“Well, Robb threw up in the floral arrangement between the pictures and the ceremony.”

“That’s because he drank too much the night before at that stupid bachelor party Theon hosted and then got nervous on top of his queasy stomach. Perfect excuse to retch in the poinsettias.”

“Ugh…flowers,” Jon muttered. He grinned at her then. “You looked beautiful in your dress. You were a vision. I couldn’t stand to look away. I can’t wait till I can gaze my fill of you tomorrow in it.”

He pulled her into his arms for a deep, passionate kiss. Sansa climbed into his lap, straddling him. Her hands found his hair and he gripped her hips tightly.

“I’d marry you anywhere,” he swore as they stared at each other. “But I’m glad we’re doing this here. It’s our special place. It’s where I fell in love with you.”

Sansa started kissing his shoulder, gliding her nails along his skin, making him shiver. His hands started caressing her ass and softly stroking up and down her back. Honest Jon (and Honestly Buzzed Jon) was in full swing now and had more to say.

“I’ll confess that this room…this bed is where I first jerked off thinking about you in your bikini the summer you graduated from high school. God, I hated myself all that summer for thinking of you that way at all.”

“Really, Jon?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, my sweet, dirty boy,” she laughed. “This is where I fell in love with you, too. But that wasn’t till the next summer. But the one you mentioned? The summer after I graduated? God knows, I spent a lot of time fantasizing about you that summer. You were handsome anyway but you’d started letting your hair grow out. I dreamed of running my fingers through your curls. And you were already in shape but then it was just like…”

“I joined the local gym here, that one that’s open 24/7. I was working out all the time trying to ignore the fact I was lusting after my cousin.”

“Well, all that working out only made me lust after you more. I loved the way you stared at me, especially when we were down at the beach and you’d try and pretend you weren’t staring at me by hiding behind your sunglasses.”

“Apparently, I was not as smooth as I thought,” he chuckled.

“I didn’t mind. I didn’t weird me out the way some guys might have. You made me feel pretty.”

“You’re more than pretty. You’re gorgeous.”

“I’d stared at you in your trunks when you’d play in the surf with Arya, Bran and Rickon and I longed for a rogue wave to come along and knock them off. I spent hours imagining an elaborate little porn fantasy about it while pretending to read my smutty romance novels.”

“Yeah?”

“I did. The kids would get called in to the house for some reason and it’d be just you and me. And this wave would just come along and knock your trunks off and they’d wash up on shore. Boom. I’d get to see Cousin Jon’s perfect ass for the first time since you were six maybe. I already just knew it’d be perfect by the way.” He started laughing. “Then, you’d ask me to toss your trunks back to you and I’d shake my head. You’d get all shy and then I’d strip off my bikini right there on the beach.”

“You really did plan this out.”

“I’m not done,” she said trying to keep from laughing. “You’d fight this little battle with yourself. You’d be trying to tell yourself we shouldn’t but then you couldn’t resist me anymore. You’d stand up from where you had been hiding in the water. And I’d get to see your cock at last. It’d be hard…and I’d know you wanted me, too. And then we’d make out at the water’s edge like ‘From Here to Eternity’ with wave crashing around us, expect it’d be naked making out.”

“I like naked making out.”

“Then, I’d imagine we’d fuck and do all sort of naughty things. You know, whatever Horny 18-year-old Sansa could come up with, that is.”

“I like Horny Sansa's fantasy,” he said sweetly. “We should act that out sometime.”

“We could…but I don’t want to scar our family for life.”

“We’ll have the place to ourselves come Monday.”

“Yes, Monday. A week alone at the beach house. Whatever will we do?”

“Fuck like rabbits in every room in the house…except your parents’ room,” he added with an involuntary shudder. If one thing could kill Horny Jon, it was the thoughts of screwing Sansa in her parents’ bed. “And in the pool and in the pool house and then down at the beach some night…”

“Big plans you’ve got our honeymoon,” she said with a grin.

He chuckled again but then turned serious. “Well…that’s not all my plans. I thought about taking walks on the beach with you, no nudity involved…unless you insist. And I dreamed of sitting in the living room together on the sofa and just reading books or taking naps or kissing till we were dizzy but not fucking. I thought maybe we’d eat breakfast on deck every morning and you’d let me hold your hand and we’d watch the ocean go from grey to blue as the sun came up. And we could go out to the Crab Shack one night for dinner or go dancing at Spark if you like or…”

“Perfect,” she whispered and leaned her forehead against his. “Your plans are perfect, my love.”

They sat there contentedly for a minute, just relishing their closeness and their love. But then Sansa remembered that she was straddling Naked Jon, one of her favorite varieties of Jon.

“Hey, Jon?”

“Yeah.”

“Make me cum, baby,” she said.

He nodded eagerly, his eyes were still shining but not with tears now. One hand moved from her hips and he trailed a finger up her thigh. He kissed her lips and slid his tongue in her mouth. Sansa’s breath caught in anticipation and she moaned with his kiss. Then, she trembled when she felt his warm finger enter her. His thumb brushed her clit as a second finger joined the first inside of her. Sansa’s hips began to rock, riding his hand.

“So fucking wet, sweet girl,” he whispered in her ear as he started nuzzling her neck. “I wanna watch you ride my cock after you ride my hand. Will you?”

“Yes…fuck, yes,” she panted as his fingers kept frigging her. “Faster, Jon,” she said.

His fingers moved in and out swiftly, his thumb stroked her clit deftly. She jutted her breasts forward, offering him a nipple to suck. He bent his head and laved at her breasts in turn. The delightful tension was already building in her belly, in her pussy, a heady pulsing overtaking her senses.

“ _Ohhh_ …Jon,” she cried. She writhed in his lap like a woman possessed. She couldn’t get enough of his hands on her, his mouth on her tits. Her head fell back as he curled his fingers insider her just so. “ _Ahhh_ ….fuck me, lover. _Urrr_ ….Jon! Yes! YES!!”

“Come on, baby,” he urged her moving his lips off her nipple for a moment before capturing the next one.

“I’m cumming, Jon!” she shouted. “Oh, I’m… _unngh_!”

 

* * *

 

Her hips continued bucking until he felt the final spasms of her orgasm finish. He slipped his fingers out and licked them cleaned while she watched with blown pupils and a hazy look in her eye. Her cheeks were flushed and her hair was a glorious mess. As soon as he removed his fingers from his mouth, she kissed him hungrily with her swollen, red lips. His cock was still hard as a rock and weeping now. He was breathing heavily.

“Sansa…baby…can we…”

“Lay down, Jon,” she purred.  "You're getting punished now."

"Oh, fuck yes." 

She bound his wrists with her blue and white garter of all things. They were digging into his flesh a bit but he was getting a show. And when Sansa put on a show for him, all was right with the world.

Sansa swayed across the room towards his. She climbed up his body like a wild cat. She straddled him again, clasping her breasts and lolling her head back. Her mouth opened and all manner of dirty things poured out. She started gyrating her hips above him. Once in a while she’d lean forward and offer him a nipple to suck but she kept her pussy infuriatingly out of reach as she perched on her knees above him. His dick kept thumping against her thigh as she swiveled those hips and played with her tits but no relief was in sight for him.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” he finally joked when he could stand no more.

“Me?” she asked coquettishly. “Would I do that to you?”

“You know damn well you love to tease me and drive me wild,” he said huskily.

He was pleased by the way her cheeks flushed then and her tongue darted out to wet her lips.

“Is that a complaint, Mr. Snow?”

“No…not at all.”

And when she finally sank downward and took him all the way in, his balls nestled up against her ass and Sansa rocking above him and moaning his name, all he could think was, _If she is the death of me here…what a way to go_.

 

* * *

 

 

**Saturday 6:30AM**

 

Saturday morning dawned…at least Jon assumed that it dawned. They both jolted awake to the sound of an enormous rumble of thunder. Sansa’s startled gasp caused him to wrap his arms protectively around her. He could feel her heart beating rapidly through her back as he held her close. It took them both a minute or so to realize that it was only thunder, followed by a tremendous cacophony of rain beating down on the attic roof.

“Good morning,” he said as her heartbeat returned to a steady beat. “It’s our wedding day.”

He could almost _feel_ her smile though she wasn’t facing him.

“It is,” she said so sweetly.

_Please, God…let us have our fifteen minutes_ , he prayed.

“Don’t worry, Jon,” she sighed. He started kissing her back and ran his hand along her ass…hoping for a little early morning action. Instead, Sansa hopped out of bed and said, “Lots to do today!”

“Right,” he said trying not to sound too discontented. Sansa and the other ladies left early to have breakfast together at the fancy crepe place. Then, Sansa, Margaery and Aunt Cat were going to the spa. Arya and Meera had taken a pass on that and had plans to decorate the beach house for the post-wedding party.

The men had originally planned to take him on a fishing excursion that morning but that was out with the weather. Jon was secretly delighted. He loved fishing with Uncle Ned but a large group on a charter boat wasn’t really what’d he’d wanted to do on his wedding day. He had nightmares about the boat sinking and him not getting to marry Sansa…or just getting seasick and being miserable the rest of the day. He honestly thought he’d just prefer a nap to risking the rolling sea today.

Uncle Ned suggested the pancake house since they were on their own for breakfast and the men all stuffed themselves. Sure enough, Jon got his desired nap when they returned to the house during another deluge of rain.

He woke a couple of hours later to the sound of Sansa returning from the spa with freshly painted nails and toes.

“Hey, beautiful,” he said sleepily.

“Hey,” she answered.

“Still raining?” he asked.

“Yeah.” She sat down on the bed with a disheartened little sigh and he sat up and kissed her cheek.

“Don’t worry, Sansa. Rain or shine, right?”

“Yeah,” she said trying smile again.  But it wasn't her normal, sunny smile.

 

**Saturday 7:30PM**

 

That night the rain was still pouring as it had all day. Aunt Cat was having Theon, Bran, Rickon and Robb move furniture around in the living room to create an ‘aisle’ for Sansa to walk down. She asked Meera to help her place some flowers in vases around the room.

Sansa was upstairs getting ready with Arya and Marg’s help and Uncle Benjen was on the look-out for the minister to arrive. He had Uncle Ned’s golf umbrella at the ready to keep the minister from getting soaked.

“What are you doing?” Jon asked when he walked downstairs from the second-floor bathroom where he’d just trimmed his beard and finished getting dressed.

He was in his black dress pants and white shirt with a black tie. He’d pulled his hair back in a manbun for the occasion though some unruly curls would not be denied and escaped due to the humidity.

“Getting the room wedding ready,” Aunt Cat said cheerfully. She came over and straightened his tie, “You look very handsome, Jon.”

“Thanks. You don’t need to do this, Aunt Cat. We’re getting married on the beach.”

As if on cue, a blinding flash of lightning lit up the room and a loud peal of thunder rattled the windows.

Aunt Cat raise her brow. “Jon…”

“The wedding’s still thirty minutes away,” he said before she could try and talk more sense into him. “Where’s Uncle Ned…and Robert?”

“Outside,” she huffed irritably. “Trying to get electrocuted.”

Jon walked over to the large picture window and looked down towards the beach. There was Uncle Ned and his best friend soaking wet in t-shirts and shorts trying to stick the bamboo tiki torches in the sand and arrange the chairs for everyone.

Gendry came sprinting inside to ask Aunt Cat where the lighter was.

“You can’t light the torches in this,” Aunt Cat said gesturing towards the pouring rain. “Tell your father and Ned to come in please, Gendry.”

Gendry shook his head and gave Jon a quick glance. “Uh…Ned said that Sansa was getting married on the beach. Dad refuses to abandon him.”

“Ugh!”

Jon couldn’t help but smile. At least Uncle Ned was as nutty as they were.

“Hey, Gendry? Did you get a chance to pick up a bottle of rum for me?” Jon asked.

“Yeah…and more tequila.”

“Thanks,” he said with a smile as he blithely ignored his aunt’s frustrated groan and went to the kitchen to snag a mini-quiche.

 

**Saturday 7:45PM**

 

“Sansa…” Marg said sympathetically as she rubbed her back. “We knew it was probably going to rain. It’s not the end of the world. Your mom set up the living room and we can…” Sansa cried harder and Margaery said, “Honey, your mascara’s going to run.”

“It’s waterproof…unlike my wedding,” she wailed.

She’d tried so hard to say positive. They’d all tried to warn her in their way. She’d been so sure that it would stop for just a bit. But it hadn’t let up. Not once the entire day.

“Oh, for fuck sake,” Arya said. “I don’t care if we get wet. We can go out on the beach for 15 minutes and listen to you exchange your vows.”

“I know, I know,” Sansa said wiping her eyes. “Jon and I said the same last night…and this morning but it’s storming. I don’t want anyone taking the risk of getting struck by lightning or…”

“It’s just us here,” Marg said. “We could hold off another half hour or however long it takes to stop.”

“If it ever stops,” Arya muttered.

There was a knock at the door and Arya went to answer, making sure it wasn’t Jon. Sansa looked over her shoulder and saw her father standing in the doorway. His hair was still dripping wet but freshly combed back from his face. He’d changed into his dress shirt, jacket and tie but he was wearing khaki shorts.

“You ready, love?”

“It’s raining, Dad.”

“Yeah, it is. The lightning’s let up the past ten minutes though. Come on…everyone’s downstairs.”

“I was so sure it’d stop,” she sighed. “Mom got the living room all set up?” Her father nodded. “We can just do it there,” she said resignedly.

“Girls…give me a few minutes with Sansa, alright?” her dad asked to Arya and Margaery.  When they left, her father sat her on the bed and said, "It's my girl's wedding day.  I can't stop the rain but I've been hoping and praying for it to all weekend.  Even if it doesn't, you're marrying a wonderful young man...who I happen to love very much.  I couldn't be happier than to see you with Jon.  I know he'll take good care of you and love you as you deserve...just like he's been doing for over five years and just like you do for him.  As far as the weather goes, let's have a little faith, love.  Just about ten minutes to go...but let's not give up yet."

 

**Saturday 7:50PM**

 

The rain was little more than a pitter patter now as Jon rolled up his trouser legs on the covered patio and removed his shoes. Robb did the same…but he was shaking his head. They shared an umbrella as they walked down towards the beach with the minister on their tail still holding on to Uncle Benjen’s.

“You sure about this?” Robb asked as they trudged across the wet sand towards the appointed spot.

“Sure about what? Marrying your sister? I’ve never been surer about anything in my entire life.”

“No, idiot. About coming out here. It could start pouring again anytime. I know you’re trying for Sansa but don’t you think…”

“It’s just a drizzle now and it’s almost time. Have a little faith, brother. Help me with this boutonniere,” he said pulling his and Robb’s out of the small florist box.

“What the hell are these anyway?” Robb asked as he affixed one to Jon’s lapel and then asked for help with his in return.

“Alstromeria,” he said confidently. Robb’s eyebrows drew together in confusion. “Don’t ask. They’re yellow and won’t kill your sister. Plus, Sansa’s using them in her bouquet along with Oriental Lilies, Button Mums, Dalias, Sweetheart Roses…and Baby’s Breath,” he rattled off. Robb’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline at that. “Not a word. Just know that my floral knowledge has been greatly expanded the past few weeks but don’t say a fucking word.”

The minister audibly cleared his throat and Jon apologized for his language.

“Hey,” Robb said a minute later, punching his shoulder. “I think it…it stopped raining while you were busy dropping flower knowledge.”

 

**Saturday 7:55PM**

 

“It stopped,” Theon said.

“What stopped?” Cat asked from where she was lighting every single candle she owned to create the right atmosphere. She’d already dug out her Baroque Classics CD and had it playing softly in the background.

“The rain. The rain stopped.”

“It has?” she squawked.

“Who’s ready for a wedding?” Ned asked as he escorted Sansa down the stairs.

She’d left her hair down because Jon preferred it that way. Her mini-veil was just a fancy headband with a wisp of gauzy lace that matched her dress hanging to her shoulders but it worked well with the beach wedding look. She clutched her glorious bouquet and smiled at them all.

“Sansa,” her mother said walking over to her and touching her daughter’s cheek. “You look so beautiful.”

“Thank you, Mom,” she said, beaming with pleasure as they hugged. “Where’s Jon?” she asked the room.

“Waiting for you,” Gendry said from where he stood by Arya. “He’s already at the beach with the minister and Robb. He won’t believe his eyes when he sees you, Sansa.”

“Thanks.”

 

**Saturday 8:00PM**

 

Grey rain clouds raced eastward and the sun peeped out from its hiding place before it could settle into the Gulf for the night. The sky was a pinkish orange where the clouds had disappeared and Jon smiled to himself. The water was a greyish green like usual this time of day but it was warm where it occasionally made it far enough of up the sugar white sand to cover his feet.

Gendry and Theon raced out with two lighters and they lit the tiki torches as Jon saw Aunt Cat leading the remaining pack of Starks and friends down from the house. She was carrying three large umbrellas in her hand if needed. _Always prepared,_ he thought with a smirk at his aunt.

The rest of the family and friends in attendance found their seats that Uncle Benjen had hastily wiped off with a towel. Arya came up for a hug before taking her place beside Gendry.

Marg made her way down from the house in her lovely green sundress and her yellow bouquet that was a bit smaller than Sansa’s. Her wavy brown hair was in a partial up-do and Jon heard Robb sigh beside him as he stared at his beautiful wife.

Bran clicked on the small speaker he’d attached to his phone and ‘Canon in D’ drifted faintly out over the water as Uncle Ned and Sansa came into sight.

She was gorgeous…which he knew of course. But seeing her in her dress and being free to gaze at her as long as he pleased was something he hadn’t expected to hit him so hard. He could hear the waves crashing in the background and smell the salt sea air.  The breeze played in her hair and she was smiling happily on her father's arm.

He felt the lump rising in his throat and struggled to contain himself. He’d never live it down with Theon if he bawled like a baby now.

But as Sansa drew closer, a tremulous smile on her sweet, red lips with her lovely bouquet and breath-taking lacey, strapless wedding gown, added to her natural beauty with her crystal blue eyes and her beautiful red hair hanging loose around her shoulders and her bare toes in the sand and… _Where was I?_

Jon shook his head, allowing his uncle to hand his bride over…before he promptly started sobbing like a baby. Chest heaving, tears falling…Theon’s jaw dropped. He was probably wishing he had his phone out so he could record it.

_No worries, Theon. Uncle Benjen’s already recording the ceremony for us. Weepy Jon’s emotional breakdown is being save for posterity…oh well._

It could’ve become quite a mess if Sansa hadn’t reached down the front of her gown and pulled out a handkerchief for him with a grin. She had tears in her eyes but at least they were staying in her eyes. The handkerchief was warm from where it’d been pressed between her breasts…and it smelled like her skin. He wiped his tears away and pulled it together. Soon, Weepy Jon was replaced with Happy Jon…and that horny guy, too.

The minister said the expected words which were dutifully repeated back by the bride and groom at the proper moments. They spoke a few words of their own; words about their love, when they first fell in love and how this place was special to them and how marvelous their family was to support their union and how blessed they felt to have them all here. It wasn’t anything that hadn’t been said before perhaps…but every word was from the heart.

And once they were pronounced husband and wife and sealed their marriage with a kiss, they turned to the crowd of beloved family and friends to receive their congratulations. They were soon swarmed but Jon kept hold of his bride’s hand the whole time. The new Mrs. Jon Snow was not getting very far from his side this night, he swore to himself.

Horny Jon cast a longing look at the water, thinking on Drunk Jon’s idea of the perfect consummation but dismissed it. There’d be plenty of time for sex in a variety of places this week once they were alone here.

Just as they’d managed to hug everyone present, a heavy wet raindrop landed on Jon’s cheek and he saw two splashes on Sansa’s shoulder.

“Well…we got our fifteen minutes,” she laughed as she looked up at the sky which was suddenly grey once more.

“We did, sweet girl. We did,’ he chuckled. “Thank heavens for that at least.”

Aunt Cat started admonishing Bran, Jojen and Rickon to fold up the chairs and carry them in and urged everyone to come and enjoy the food she’d spent the afternoon making for the reception.

“I made Chocolate Cherry Cake for the groom and the lemon wedding cake Sansa chose looks delicious.” She urged Margaery, Meera and Arya to help her lay out the spread. “And there’s champagne of course.”

“And rum, tequila and beer,” Gendry added and received a hearty slap of approval on the back from his father for that.

“Rum?” Sansa queried with a wink at Jon.

“Rum,” he said. “I heard the bride might prefer that to tequila.”

“ _Mmmm_ …I like both. I love you, Mr. Snow.”

“And, I love you, Mrs. Snow.”

Sansa squealed as Jon lifted his radiant bride into his arms to carry her all the way back to the house behind the rest of the party as the rain became a soft, steady drizzle.

They might have made it inside fairly dry…but Horny Jon would not be denied. Horny Sansa was right there with him anyway.

And if they stopped at the pool house first for a few precious, panting minutes as the drizzle became a downpour…no one said a word once they finally rejoined the celebration soaked through and through.

**Author's Note:**

> Two things- Yes, you can legally marry your first cousin in the state of Florida, in several states in the U.S. actually. 
> 
> And second, when I started this Hurricane Harvey was not a blip on the map yet so I want to express my sympathies to those who have suffered or are suffering from that storm. The fake 'storm' in my story is far less serious but I wouldn't want anyone to think I'd make light of something like a real hurricane or tropical storm.
> 
> I plan to have the conclusion wrapped up by the weekend and this will conclude my Beach House series.


End file.
